


Learning Curve

by willow_41z



Category: Leverage
Genre: Coda, Fleeting Castration References, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-09-11
Updated: 2011-09-11
Packaged: 2017-10-23 15:21:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 853
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/251893
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/willow_41z/pseuds/willow_41z
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Eliot makes sure Parker can pull off a con. Parker learns something in the process. Coda to "The Morning After Job."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Learning Curve

**Author's Note:**

> TW: Fleeting reference to possible sexual assault.

“Let's go steal a corrupt international financier,” Nate said.

“Wait,” Eliot said. “Parker. How do you take down a guy like Vector?”

Parker looked up. “How do you... take him down?” Eliot didn't make any sense, which happened a lot. She looked at Nate and Sophie and Hardison for clues. They looked confused too, which meant it was an Eliot thing, not a Parker thing. “Make him think he's killed me, then impersonate a--”

“No. Not we. How do _you_ take him down. Physically. We're not doin' this unless I'm satisfied you can take him on if those drops don't work.”

“Eliot, man, do you really think that's necessary--” Hardison began.

“It's Parker, man, she's not good at doing normal. This could go south--”

“I wouldn't have set up the plan if I thought it would put Parker in danger--” Nate said.

Eliot snarled over him. “I've seen this guy at work. He's nasty. I don't want to have to cut his balls off with a butter knife if he lays a finger on Parker--”

He and Hardison started bickering. Nate, off to one side, frowned. Parker shrugged, and socked Eliot in the stomach as hard as she could. He groaned and bent forward, coughing; she grabbed one of his shoulders and brought her knee up towards his groin, but his hand was there to block, and she had to shove him in the shoulder hard with both hands to keep him from grabbing her ankle and flipping her. He was bigger and stronger than her-- she was faster, just barely. There was a chair behind her, one of the high ones from the bar-- she put her palms on it, jumped up, and kicked him in the chest. She couldn't give him a chance to recover-- she shoved the chair aside, took a step back, and flipped towards Eliot--

He grabbed her ankle and dumped her on her butt. “Don't get fancy,” he growled, and she swept around with her other leg to keep him from getting a better grip. “Vector's big, you're fast. Use your speed.”

Not fancy, she could do that-- she knew his boots were steel-toed, so she went straight for his shins, hammering them twice and then grabbing his knee to haul herself upright. “Wrong way, he'd break your--”

Parker yanked her fingers out of the way, ducked Eliot's fist-- he always went too slow when they were sparring, because he was trying not to hurt her-- grabbed his hair, pulled his head back, and swiped at his eyes. His hand caught her in the chin, but it was worth getting hit to see the surprise that registered briefly on his face. She staggered back, feinted with her left hand then brought her right towards his solar plexus, but in a straight boxing contest Eliot could beat her any day of the week, and he deflected both her blows easily. She looked around the room, head still ringing from his last punch, picked up one of the chairs, and brought it down towards his head. He grabbed it just in time, and yanked it away from her.

“Good,” he said, and put it down. “All right. We'll be right outside, so--”

She took advantage of his lowered hands to belt him in the jaw.

“What the _hell?_ ” Eliot growled, hands going up. She stepped back in case this was a trap. Hardison quickly got between them, hands out. “Parker, you're not supposed to hit me after we're done!” Eliot glared at her around Hardison.

_"Oh,"_ she said, suddenly understanding. “Oh, we were done. Yeah, got it.”

“We good?” Nate asked mildly, in the tone that meant someone had done something wrong but he was pretending it hadn't happened.

She knew how to answer that one. “We're good,” she confirmed, glancing over to where Eliot still had his hand on his jaw.

“There's somethin' wrong with you,” he growled, and pushed past her. That usually meant she'd done something he didn't think was right... hitting him in the face after he thought they were done probably qualified. But she knew how to fix this, too. Nate wasn't out of ice this time, and she wrapped a handful of ice cubes in a clean dish towel.

“Here.” She thrust it at Eliot. He took it with a glare, and turned away.

_Sometimes people will pretend to fight with you and then stop. After they stop, you're not supposed to hit them any more_ . She filed that away with all the other things the team had taught her, from “count the haircuts to tell how many guys are in the room” to “here's how you spoof your IP address” to “stabbing people is usually a bad way to pick them up” to “use your opponent's weight against him” to “stop stripping in front of the team, Parker!” She still didn't understand that last one, but it wasn't like she had to  _follow_ all their advice, anyway. But it was always there if she wanted it.

The others had already left. She shut the freezer, and hurried to catch up with them.


End file.
